


I'm bent with bitterness, I can't foresee

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Disabled Character, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner Are Best Friends, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs a Hug, Mentioned Martin Blackwood, Mentioned Sasha James, Mentioned Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Minor Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic, Vomiting, let daisy and jon be soft, might be a little ooc, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25862821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: “Jon was ill, I found him last night, took care of him.”Basira hummed and looked down at the cane that had fallen.“Must’ve been quite poorly, if he was using that, should’ve come got me.”Daisy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 10
Kudos: 182





	I'm bent with bitterness, I can't foresee

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is sick, and seeks out comfort. First sickfic, maybe a little OOC, but I kept thinking about the effects of Basira treating him like a monster could have on his subconscious. 
> 
> TW CONTAINS VOMITING AND WHAT COULD BE CHILD ABUSE AND NEGLECT

Something was wrong.

Daisy could feel it, whether it be from being in the police force for as long as she was, or the hunt, she just knew.

They have all been sleeping at the institute for some time now, and tonight she was drifting off on one of the cots in a spare room, that had used to be Martin’s. 

There was someone in the hallway, and she needed to investigate.

She pushed herself off the cot, her legs were weak and stiff, side effects from sleeping on a cot for as long as she had been, and The Buried, respectfully.

She shuffled over to the door of the small room and cracked it just enough so she could see what was going on.

She did not expect what she saw.

Maybe an avatar coming to kill her, or Martin wandering the halls like a ghost, but not Jon.

He was staying there, like the rest of them, but either didn’t sleep, or stayed locked up in his office and slept at his desk.

But there he was, limping down the hallway, and he looked like shit.

His skin was ashen and pale, and his hair was matted down with what could have been water, but she wasn’t sure why it would have been, and he was using his cane, which is what finished painting the picture for her, that Jon was not ok.

She took a breath, and stepped out of the room, trying not to startle him. 

“Jon?”

He looked at her, his eyes tired and glazed over, but it seemed like he was looking through her, not at her.

“Jon, are you alright?”

He didn’t reply, so she crept towards him slowly, careful not to scare him, he had been jumpy, but she supposed they all had.

When she got close enough to him, she could smell the sickness rolling off him.

Ah, that explains it.

“Jon? I’m going to touch you, alright? Let’s just get you laying down.”

She carefully wrapped her arm around his back, and began to guide him to the cot, but even though she had told him, it didn’t seem like he even registered her presence until she touched him, and he startled and would have fallen over if not for Daisy’s arm holding him up.

“Daisy?”

He was staring at her sleepily, at least knowing she was there this time.

“Hi”

At that, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell into her.

Fuck.

———————------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had scooped Jon up into her arms, the cane falling to the floor beside them, and she decided she didn’t care enough to grab it.

By the time she placed Jon on the cot, she was rather out of breath herself, so she sat on the cot next to Jon’s sleeping form.

She looked at him, and was honestly taken aback at how different he looked without what she thought was a permanent scowl painted on his face.

He looked almost peaceful.

She sighed, and brushed her hand against his face, moving some of the loose hairs out of the way.

It worried her that Jon Sims, the same man who always Knew you were coming, and would normally shy away from any touch, hardly stirred under her hand.

She was also worried by the heat that was coming off of his small, shaking frame.

She needed to find the first aid kit, and some water, she decided.

She looked around the small room, and cursed, realizing her crutches were not with her, but in the breakroom. 

This could be a problem.

She pushed herself shakily off the small cot, and swore she heard Jon whimper at the loss of body heat.

She hummed, and shifted the small blanket on the bed to cover him, and started what she hoped would be a short journey to get the supplies she needed.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon felt like he was going to freeze.

It was so cold.

The blanket someone had put over him was not helping much, but he curled into it anyway. 

He was so cold, and so alone.

He wanted Martin.

He wanted anyone.

The body that had been next to him was gone, and he was alone again.

He always was when he was sick.

He remembered being a child, he was stuck in bed with a fever and stomach bug for a week, and his grandma refused to be in the room with him for more than a few moments at a time, and he remembered her disapproving look whenever she had to clean the bin he had been ill in, or the floor next to his bed.

He didn’t get sick often after that, or at least he didn’t tell anyone.

He had gotten ill during his first few months as a researcher at the institute, and had to stay home for three days, and when he got back, he wasn’t sure if anyone besides Tim had realized he was gone.

He missed Tim.

He wasn’t sure when started crying.

He was so cold and alone.

He felt like utter shit.

His stomach rolled and he curled into himself more, trying to make himself as small as he could.

He closed his eyes and hoped it would be over soon.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy was playing a balancing act with a glass of water and the first aid kit while trying her best not to fall over despite the shaking of her legs.

She carefully opened the door to the room where she left Jon, and she’d never admit it, but her heart broke as she looked down at the shivering form on the cot, curled into himself, and sobbing quietly.

She sat the glass of water on the ground close to the cot, and carefully sat next to Jon again.

“Jon, I need you to open your mouth so I can take your temperature, alright?” 

He whined, but let her slip the thermometer into his mouth and curled around her, just a little, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

Daisy noticed, and ran her hand through his sweat-soaked hair. 

When the thermometer has gotten a read, she looked at it and felt her heart drop at the reading.

39.4

Shit.

She grabbed the fever reducers that were thankfully in the first aid kit.

“Jon, I need you to sit up and take these for me”

He whined and curled tighter into her.

“Jon, please.”

He sighed but let her move him into a sitting position and took the pills and water he offered her.

His hand was shaking as he tried to grab the glass, and Daisy grabbed the glass back from him when he was going to drop it, and held it to his lips where he took just enough to swallow the pills, and begrudgingly took a few more sips when she did not remove the glass.

To her surprise, when she let him lie back down, he wouldn’t, instead slumping forward into her as soon as she put the glass down, and she let out a small oof noise as he collided with her chest. 

It scared her more then she’d like to admit when he weakly grabbed her and started to cry and shake. 

“Alright, you’re ok.”

She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back as sobs shook his small, far to warm body.

He was sobbing something that sounded like an apology, and it broke her heart all over again.

“It’s ok, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong, why are you apologizing?”

He took a break from the apology, still shaking and crying, but moving his head slightly so she could hear him more clearly, not that he needed too, The Hunt had made her hearing more sensitive than ever, but she still had to strain her ears to hear him speak.

“Because I’m sick”

He then buried his face back into her neck and kept sobbing.

“Oh Jon, it’s okay, you don’t need to apologize for being sick, that’s the least of things you need to apologize to anyone for.”

She bit her lip, contemplating what to do next.

“Let’s get you lying down again, okay?”

He nodded slightly, but didn’t seem to want to move.

“Jon?”

He whimpered.

“Please stay”

Daisy hardly believed anything that she was hearing tonight, Jon almost always wanted to be left alone, yet here he was.

“Of course I’ll stay, but I need you to lay down so I can grab something, alright?”

He nodded, and loosened the grip he had on her, allowing himself to be laid down, and immediately curling into himself again, letting out a whine, moving his hands to his stomach.

She sighed, and got off the cot, moving to the corner of the room to grab a bin that was thankfully left in there, and set it next to the cot, within arms reach if he needed it.

She sighed, not sure what to do next, she had never been the caring type, especially not towards Jon.

Jon seemed to still be awake enough to know she was there and reached out an arm weakly to grab at her, and pull her towards the cot.

She sat next to him, careful not to jostle him too much, but when he tried to curl around her more, and was shivering, she decided on her next move.

She shifted slowly, and picked him up and moved so she was sitting in a position on the cot where it would be easier for her to, well, cuddle Jon, since it seemed like he wanted to be held if the past half an hour was anything to go off of.

He seemed to like this, and curled up happily on her lap, like a cat. 

She closed her eyes, and let herself fall asleep until she was needed again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Jon wasn’t sure where he was when he woke up, he wasn’t sure of much but one thing.

He was going to be sick. 

He looked around the room and saw the bin that had been placed next to the cot, and he practically flung himself off of whoever has been holding him.

Normally, he would have been embarrassed by all of this, but he felt to poorly to feel much shame at the current moment.

He barely made it to the bin on time before he started to heave into it, and it was only a second later he felt a presence next to him, rubbing is back and saying what he assumed was comforting words.

He couldn’t breathe, he felt sick rising in his throat and he felt hot tears running down his face.

He wasn’t sure how long had passed, or how many times he was sick before he finally fell onto the form next to him, feeling exhausted and in pain, he hardly had enough energy to open his eyes, let alone apologize to whoever was holding him.

He let his eyes slip closed, his stomach still cramping, but the exhaustion overruling anything else.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy wasn’t sure what had happened.

She felt Jon scrambled off the cot, and the next thing she heard was him gagging into the bin next to the cot. 

She was next to him in seconds, quickly pulling his hair back with a hair tie she thought to grab before, and then holding him up with one arm, and the other rubbing circles on his back while mumbling what she hoped was comforting words quietly.

It was half an hour before he finally slumped bonelessly against her, clearly exhausted from it all.

Once she was sure he was asleep, she lifted him and placed him back onto the cot, where he curled around his stomach, which was now clearly hurting him.

She stood for a second, before checking the time, and she was almost relieved to see it was almost five in the morning, Basira would be waking soon, and maybe she could help her, or at least grab her crutches, because at this point, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand, her legs shaking from exhaustion, and she was rather tired because of the night’s ordeal.

She knew she should clean out the bin he was sick in case he needed it again, so she grabbed it and quickly left the room to do so, and when she got back to the room, Basira was standing outside of the door, looking upset as she had always recently.

“Basira, hi”

Basira turned to face her, and gave a tired smile upon seeing her.

“Daisy, what’s going on?”

Daisy sighed, she was sure Basira would be mad for her treating Jon like a human.

“Jon was ill, I found him last night, took care of him.”

Basira hummed and looked down at the cane that had fallen.

“Must’ve been quite poorly, if he was using that, should’ve come got me.”

Daisy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Basira, I know you mean well and all that, but you haven’t exactly been kind to him, recently, and he was really bad, I think that having more than one person would’ve overwhelmed him and-“

“Daisy, it’s ok”

Daisy sighed, and then paused. Basira spoke up.

“How is he doing?”

Daisy opened the door to Jon, still curled up on the cot, audibly shivering, and calling out for people.

Calling for Martin.

For Tim.

For Sasha.

Daisy walked over to the cot, setting the bin back down, and smoothing out his hair.

“What’s his temperature”

Basira asked, leaning against a door frame.

“39.4”

“Jesus”

Basira walked further into the room, and went to grab the first aid kit, and grabbed the thermometer.

Daisy grabbed Jon’s shoulder and lightly shook him awake, which he did not seem pleased with.

“Hey Jon, can we take your temperature again?”

Jon looked up at the ‘we’ to see Basira standing there, and promptly began to panic and bury his face in the blanket and pillow.

“Jon, hey what’s wrong, it’s just us”

That didn’t seem to help much, but he did remove the blanket enough so they could hear him say something.

“Basira, I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- msorry”

Jon was mumbling something, and Daisy took the thermometer from Basiras hand, and moved her head to motion for her to leave, which she, thankfully, understood, after the door clicked shut, she tried again.

“Jon, hey it’s ok it’s just me, no one else, can you open your mouth for me?”

This time, Jon let Daisy slip the thermometer under his tongue, and to her relief, his temperature had dropped to 38.6, not a normal temperature, but not as bad as it was.

“Ok, thank you, Jon, I’ll be back in a second”

Jon whimpered, but she got up and walked out the door, not bothering to close it.

“His temperature went down, I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would react like that when you came in”

Basira seemed to think for a second, before sighing.

“It’s ok, probably my fault. I’m going to go grab a cold cloth, see if we can break his fever.”

Daisy nodded, and walked back into the room, where Jon was trying to get out of the cot. 

“Hey, hey Jon what are you doing, you need to lay back down.”

She rushed over to him and tried to maneuver him back down, but he fought weakly against her grip.

“N-no, gotta- gotta apologize, to Basira”

Daisy had gotten him to lay down, he was clearly exhausted from even trying to stand.

“Shh, she isn’t mad, you don’t need to apologize for anything”

By the time Basira was back, Jon was mostly asleep again, stirring slightly when the cloth was placed on his brow.

Basira went to go do some work, and Daisy kept watch over Jon.

When Jon’s fever broke, Daisy hugged him and told him they would need to have a talk about some stuff soon, and Jon would apologize profusely for the trouble he caused, but would drink the affection he was being shown.

But for now, he slept, and she kept guard.

**Author's Note:**

> find my writing tumblr at haunted-by-catholic-guilt, and say Hi!


End file.
